A New Challenge
by Wakizaeshi
Summary: Drizzt arrives in a land that he has never seen. Even in the maps, they do not describe a place like this. The drow has to find a way back to his plain of dimension before this new world finds a way to kill him. Revised Chapter 1 and 2. CHAPTER 4 IS UP!
1. Chapter 1: A Meager Task

Chapter 1: A Meager Task

He did not know where he was. The drow from Menzoberranzan did not recognize the land around him. Drizzt was confused, somewhat dazed and disoriented. Drizzt looked around, in a small forest of some sort with ancient oaks strewn with bright foliage. A valley of some sort laid out beyond the forest, though Drizzt did not recognize any of it. The last memory that Drizzt had was he and Guenhwyvar were stalking some orcs in a nearby encampment. Drizzt was scanning the area when his head sharpened with pain and his hand shot up instantly, his vision starting to blur, with Guen growling in concern. The rest was dubbed in fog. Drizzt instantly fumbled with his pack and found what he was looking for, the onyx statue of Guen, articulate with great detail done to everymuscle and point on the statue.He looked around, trying to find some noticeable landmark or form to give him a sense of place. Drizzt did not realize that he was transported to a small forest near Tirisfal Glades in Lordaeron.

Drizzt sensed an evil that tainted the land like a virus. Yet he could not discern its location, as if the evil was a tangible thing and covered every nook and cranny. The drow kept pondering how he emerged into this unknown forest. Drizzt did not know where to turn, until his senses caught upon a strong aura of evil that surrounded a demon nearby. He immediately set forth towards the aura, as if it was a beacon drawing him nearer.

Drizzt arrived out into the wide open area of Tirisfal Glades. He was drawing closer and closer to Lordaeron's capital city. When the city was barely in sight, even to his acute eyesight, a dark portal opened behind him. Drizzt spun around, simultaneously unsheathing his scimitars. Out of the dark portal came a demon known to the humans as Tichondrius.

"Greetings elf," the demon said in a cool tone "You probably wonder why you are in a land you have never seen before."

Drizzt eyed the demon, having dealt with numerous demons in the past. A demon the name of Errtu was a titan of a beast, yet this demon was small in comparison to Errtu, with long claws and twin horns protruding from his head. His eyes gleamed blood red and he was an unwelcome guest to this world.

"We have brought you here elf," the demon continued "To kill a human who has gone beyond the sense of good and brings terror and wrath to those who aren't of the undead."

"Do not most men go beyond their sense of good as you would say?" Drizzt asked, trying to find the demon's motives and to buy as much time as possible to formulate a plan of action.

"True. However, this human, King Arthas, has betrayed his own people and now rules the undead armies. He now goes, killing off the humans as they stand a pitiful attempt to fight. We brought you here because we saw you in battle, having our agents spy out for the strongest fighter, to find an elf that has no superior in battle."

Drizzt was not finding the answers he needed. "Demon, why must you go to great strides to bring me to this world when you can just kill him yourself and regain control of his armies? Also, who are these we that you have said?"

"I have brethren who are like me in many ways. We desire to kill this human, but his is too strong for us. You see, our lord the Lich King, gave him a sword that has immense power. This sword is Frostmourne, it is imbued with the Lich King's spirit. We can not compete against it. If you kill this human, we shall bring you back to your world. I will know your answer when I sense that his human heart has stopped beating."

With those final words, Tichondrius conjured up another dark portal and stepped through the portal, leaving Drizzt to formulate his course of action.

Drizzt knows that if he kills this demon, he would not be able to find a way home. His only plan he could think of would be to kill this undead king Arthas, so he can return to his plane of dimension.

With that in mind, Drizzt sets out for the capital city, knowing that this would be a source of information and maybe the whereabouts of this King. He would set out in the night, it was early day now. He needed his rest against the bright sun, as he has not quite adapted to the surface world. Drizzt found a nearby cave nearby and took his rest, waiting for night to creep in as the light slowly faded away.

"We must make haste towards Quel'thalas" said Kel'Thuzad, who was a human necromancer that had turned into the scourge. Kel'Thuzad has sensed that the dreadlords, Tichondrius in particular, were plotting against his king. King Arthas was heading for the elven country, Quel'thalas, who was the last pocket of resistance he thought available.

"Lich, I understand your concern, but if dreadlords think that anything they send against me will kill me, then they shall know my power." Arthas replied with confidence steaming in his voice.

The lich, still nerved with the sudden arrival of a power in the distance, kept his head turned behind him often as his king and the undead army rushed towards Quel'Thalas.


	2. Chapter 2: How to Fight the Undead

Chapter 2: How to Fight the Undead

When night fell, Drizzt was out in the Tirisfal Glades, heading towards the capital city of Lordaeron. Even without his keen eyesight, he saw something that made him quicken his step. The capital city was ablaze.

The drow arrived with the night slowly turning to midnight. The two iron gates were lying on the ground, broken and dented in some places. The walls of the city were fortified with watchtowers placed above and a portcullis lay on the ground, broken and battered. He stealthily crept through the town, hearing the occasional shouts of men and dying cries. The town was crammed with houses and businesses, having a center square with a statue of a valiant knight, moving on until it hit the grand castle. Drizzt continued going from shadow to shadow when a beast emerged from around a corner of the street.

Drizzt was 5 meters away from this beast. It was hunched, having long claws and a snarling face. The thing wore only a loincloth and the skin was rotted yet somehow alive, it's hair scraggly and thin. It walked with its feet and hands, using them as support, almost crawling instead of walking, the teeth jagged and torn. Drizzt only suggestion was that it was part of the undead army. The drow quickly hopped to another shadow, the ghoul dnot noticing a thing.

The drow had no idea about the fighting strategy of this beast and was going to have his battle prowess prove better than the ghouls when two more crawled or walked towards the other one.

"The dreadlords are calling us back for another attack on the humans" one ghoul said with an eerie tone that added a chill through Drizzt's spine.

"Why must we go n…..." and stopped when an orb of darkness consumed the three ghouls.

Before the ghouls even noticed the globe of darkness that the drow conjured, Drizzt was already running and unsheathing his scimitars.

One of the ghouls stepped out of the darkness and saw Drizzt for more than a brief second when a scimitar plunged through his chest while the other slashed across his neck.

Drizzt brought another orb of darkness into the other ghouls and went in. Drizzt did not need to see the ghouls, having his instincts and other senses be his eyes. He went to work, slashing and stabbing until he was the only one left standing.

When Drizzt was stepping out of the darkness while it was dissipating, he saw a monstrosity. The thing stood at 8 and half feet. The thing appeared to be stitched of various body parts and having large hooks as hands in some places, its head was even stitched to the huge body. Once again, the skin seemed rotted and yet alive.

"Looks like we has an elf" the thing said with its voice mangled and dreary.

"Tell me, where I can find this Arthas" Drizzt said, seeing how dim-witted this abomination was.

"Arthas is our leader, he not here." The thing went on. "He went to a different town"

"Where by chance is this other town."

"Stupid elf will die if he asks to manys questions."

"Then let us see which one of us will die first."

With that last remark, Drizzt rushed at the creature. The drow ran up to the beast, kicking on the thing's huge stomach and while propelling him forward behind the monster, slashing diagonally across its chest. With a flip, Drizzt was quick to move and slash the hamstrings of the monster. He kept moving, dodging the incoming attack of a huge hook that he evaded with ease. As the monster brought its hook around, Drizzt was quick to duck under it and bringing his arms over each other, slicing clearly through the stitching as both scimitars slashed through the beast's neck.

The drow wiped the blood on his scimitars on the monster and returned them to their sheaths. With that, Drizzt called forth Guenhwyvar, his panther companion. Drizzt was quick to pet behind the ears of his loyal panther companion. With that, he sent Guen on a reconnaissance mission to find out the camp of the undead.


	3. Chapter 3: Sudden Interruptions

Chapter 3: Sudden Interruptions

Cries of battle and screams of pain rang throughout the city, fighting above the noise of the blazing buildings. Drizzt heard every noise clearly, even through the crackling of the fire. The drow continued to scan the area, moving from shadow to shadow, quiet as death, noticing many ghouls scampering this way and that. He was expecting Guen to come back to him in due time to report the surrounding area. Drizzt had to find out as much information about this Arthas as he could before he made any type of action.

The dreadlord was the main problem that Drizzt faced, as he had no knowledge, Drizzt had never seen one. Even with the numerous creatures and horrors that plagued Faerun, he could only count the dreadlord as a demon of some sort. Either way, Drizzt has to find a way out of this world in order to get back, back to his friends, back to Mithral Hall, back to Catti-Brie. His thoughts went over to Catti-Brie, young and adventurous, cunning and skilled in battle. Drizzt continued to think of his closest friends, the ones he thought of as family. Regis, the cherubic Halfling, Wulfgar, the proud barbarian, and he could not forget Bruenor, the surly dwarf.

Drizzt chuckled to himself softly at the thought of Bruenor, running rampant, knowing that Drizzt had disappeared. Bruenor would summon the whole dwarf clan to march off to rescue Drizzt from impending doom if he had to, or just send himself, both dangerous in their own rights.

Another abomination came rampant down angled street, Drizzt hiding in a small alley, secluded in the shadows. He waited until the abomination passed and went up the street, taking in account of all the buildings and rubble, seeing such destruction and devastation. Drizzt continued to pass from shadow to shadow, until he heard the telltale sounds of battle. Men's screams followed, and Drizzt rushed over to the scene, staying close to the shadows, his enchanted anklets aiding him all the way.

Two men, clad in gleaming armor that he was covered from head to toe, an ornate shield with a lion sculpted and a magnificent broadsword. They fought five ghouls and a necromancer, who was resurrecting the nearby dead to fight against them, near a sprinkling well, used by city folk as a good luck charm.

Drizzt wished that he had Guen at his side, but had to put aside his thoughts as the men struggled against the ghouls. Twinkle and Icingdeath were in his hand in an instant, Twinkle waiting to drive its point deep into the ghouls' heart. Drizzt steered away from the notion of going straight into the heart of battle and went for the necromancer, producing undead from every available corpse to attack. With a flaming red robe, long white beard, and a skull helmet with long twisting horns, the necromancer conjured the dead to join his cause.

Drizzt neared when the necromancer turned towards him, somewhat surprised by the approach of the elf but the color of the elf. Drizzt was a drow, with ebon skin and long white hair. The necromancer went into a spell casting and shot a green bolt of energy from his staff, shaped in the liking of a serpent. Drizzt dodged, to have the bolt hit one of the zombie lackeys. The drow ran full speed at the necromancer, and before he reached him, the necromancer had raised two ghouls, right in Drizzt's path. Drizzt side stepped one slash and jumped straight in the air to avoid the bite of another. Drizzt landed softly, rolling out a kick to hit one of the ghouls in the face. The other ghoul charged at Drizzt, only to be disemboweled. The kicked ghoul stood on its feet and rushed at Drizzt, who stood his back to the ghoul. With eager anticipation and salivating, the ghoul rushed to have Twinkle plunge deep into his chest, Drizzt never releasing his gaze from the necromancer. The ghoul fell to the ground in a heap.

Drizzt started towards the necromancer once again when a scream came from his side, which the necromancer took full opportunity and fired another green bolt of energy. Drizzt rolled towards the scream, which was to his left, and charged into the group of ghouls. One of the men lost his footing and was about to be devoured by two ghouls, the other guard struggling against the other two ghouls, having fell one of the other ghouls. The tripped man screamed as one of the ghouls came for his body, only to have it fall in a torrent of blood atop of him. The other ghoul fell in the same manner, with its head loped off.

The man struggling against the two ghouls found his reprieve as Drizzt came behind a ghoul and kicked out its knee, it knelt and Drizzt snapped its neck. The other ghoul the man was able to chop off an arm and end in decapitation. The tripped man stood up, wanting to congratulate his savior, going to stand next to his comrade that had a face twisted with confusion and horror.

Drizzt went through this uncomfortable phase a lot in his life, many noticing his dark skin and knowing he is a drow. The drow are a malicious race, worshipping Lolth, the spider goddess. The drow care for no one, and if they did care for another, it was for a great gain in the end. Nevertheless, these men have never seen a drow; they have seen elves, from Quel'Thalas, but never a drow. Dark elves did not exist in Azeroth or Kalimdor or anywhere for a matter of fact. The two guards did not know how to react to Drizzt, in praise or in horror.

Drizzt turned to a sound, thinking it the necromancer. In the necromancer's place, stood a young woman, dressed in a dark blue cape with a hood, her blonde hair cascaded onto the back of her neck. She had a white robe beneath the cape, ornate with flowing silver and gold lines. The archmage carried a staff, with a sapphire sphere for the head.

Her voice was filled with elegance as she spoke. "If you were wondering about the necromancer, worry no more for he is dead." pointing to the nearby ground, where the necromancer laid.

The two guards sprang into life and responded in happiness. "Mistress Anora!" the two guards exclaimed as they ran over to her side. They examined her, as if checking for some unseen wound or injury.

"Are you all right, Mistress Anora?" they asked consistently.

"I am all right, I am glad to see you both alive, but where is Davlan?" responded Anora with an expression of worry painted on her fair face.

Both of the guards' faces went grim and they replied solemnly, "He fell shortly after we split up."

A face of sorrow came across Anora's face and she softly said, "This is all my fault."

"Don't say that for you know it is not the truth," the two guards started.

"Pardon my interruption, but may I intervene?" Drizzt asked, walking towards both of them.

The two guards looked over to Mistress Anora and her face showed that a few words did need to be exchanged. "How may I assist you?" Anora said.

"I am Drizzt Do' Urden, and I have been placed in this world by some sort of demon. Though this sounds preposterous, I am having a hard time coping with it, I must seek out and assassinate a King Arthas due to his undead crusade against the race of man. I beg of you for your assistance in the manner of information."

The two guards gripped their swords even more at the sound of King Arthas, Anora's eyes twinkling with an inner fire. "Arthas was the heir to the throne of Lordaeron; his father was a king who was in much turmoil through much war. The orcs have invaded this land in two wars, causing great pain and havoc in the land. Many things happened during those wars, deaths of great generals, the creation of the Paladins, and much more. The dwarves and elves had to join in an alliance to beat back the orcs, eventually driving them off this world. The rest of the orcs were driven into camps, watched over with many a guard's eye. The elves blamed the destruction of their forest homeland on the humans, saying that they did not come and aid them. They left the alliance; the dwarves stayed behind, remembering all of the actions of their homeland and their assistance in getting back their homeland, Ironforge." Anora said with her voice strong and eloquent.

"Somehow, the undead were able to infiltrate Azeroth in the means of plaguing the wheat, turning all who consumed it into the undead. Arthas was wrought with desperation to save his people from the undead's invasion, going to every measure and mean to try to be the prince he should be. He heard the tale of Frostmourne, a powerful blade way up in the icy region of Northrend. In the end, the blade consumed him, holding the spirit of the Lich King, the leader of the undead, using Arthas as the leader of the undead. Arthas went on a campaign, to eradicate the human race. He murdered his father and took the throne in a sense, and he now terrorizes the land, in search of all the races to kill." Anora stopped there; her gaze was turned more inward than outward.

"At first glance, you resemble a night elf, you know?" One of the guards remarked, placing his hand under his chin.

"Night elf?" Drizzt asked.

"Night elves are elves that worship the moon goddess Elune, strong with the bow and secluded in their forest homeland near Mount Hyjal. They are swift and formidable in battle, as I have seen you. They are rarely seen in these parts; perhaps that is why we were taken by surprise, that is all. This demon that you speak of, I believe that it must be a dreadlord."

"A dreadlord? I am sorry, I ask too many questions." Drizzt started.

"It is all right. A dreadlord is an agent of the Burning Legion, which control the undead. Arthas has taken his own sect of undead and controls them, with aid from a powerful necromancer with the name of Kel'Thuzad, who used to be a powerful mage here but turned to the dark arts of necromancy in search of power. Forgive me for I have not introduced myself; I am Anora Soulvene, one of the few in the Sister Mages of Lordaeron, a secret society used to quell any uprising in Azeroth. I am afraid we did not fully stop the invasion of the undead as much as we hoped. I am one of two left, the other I do not know where she is." Anora responded, her voice soft from sadness. "By the way, what type of elf are you then if you are not a Night elf?"

"I, I am a drow," Drizzt tentatively said.

"We can leave it at that then if you wish; but to answer your other question in the whereabouts of Arthas; I believe he is heading for Quel'Thalas, the home of the High elves. High elves are a descendant of the Night elves, looking fair in face and complexion. They know the use of arcane magic quite well and taught it to the humans in exchange for their help against the trolls that invaded their homes."

"Where is Quel'Thalas from here?" asked Drizzt.

"Northeast from here, Quel'Thalas is secluded in dense forest and they have magical gates blocking entrance into their enchanted city of Silvermoon." Anora answered.

One of the guards intervened and gratefully said, "I want to thank you for saving my life, without you there I would have died. Thank you."

The other guard gave the same speech and Drizzt slightly smiled, though the humans could not see clearly but there was enough light from the immense flames to give them a thought of what was going on. Drizzt was always shunned instantly by the stereotypical society that he had to venture through, city by city, because he was a drow. To be congratulated made him feel less restricted by the nature of his skin.

A roar came from up the street, the street angled upwards. Everyone rushed up the street, brandishing their weapons and thinking of spells. A black panther stood squared off with a man, trembling with his sword and shield, even the lion on the shield shying away from the panther.

Drizzt stopped and said to the guard, "I see you have met my panther companion, Guenhwyvar."

Guenhwyvar pranced over to Drizzt, resting comfortably against Drizzt's side. The guard went over to Anora, shaken slightly. Guenhwyvar spoke with Drizzt, though it seemed more like eye contact and small growls. Drizzt understood everything that Guen gave him. A Lich controlled the undead army attacking Lordaeron, his base camp deeper into the city.

"Guen has notified me that she has found the leader of the undead force and I believe that I will be able to get more information from him. Thank you for everything that you have done for me and farewell," with a wave, Drizzt started to leave.

"Wait!" Anora yelled, "I am going to come with you."

The three guards looked incredulously at each other and Drizzt locked gazes with Anora. "I will not be able to protect as well as you would hope for me to, besides, I do not want to bring you into unnecessary danger." Drizzt countered.

"I can handle myself; I have many means of protecting myself, through the means of magic and combat. There may be a time that I will be watching over you." Anora replied.

With a sigh, Drizzt contemplated the situation. She did know the city a lot better than he did and would be able to get him to his destination a lot quicker than without her. Then again, Guen was there and already knew the way to the base camp. The base camp would probably be full of ghouls and whatever other horror the undead army managed to create. A nod later, Anora and her guards trotted along side Drizzt, watching the shadows and streets for any new enemy to defend themselves against.


	4. Chapter 4: Mixed Emotions

Chapter 4: Mixed Emotions

Drizzt worked from shadow to shadow, melting into them without a sound, flanking his new comrades, the three guardsmen and Anora. Guen kept to the other flank, silent as death and her black fur allowed her to join even the smallest shadow, even if she was 600 pounds of muscle. The guardsmen kept by Anora in an oddly formed triangle around her, scanning everywhere, even inside the burning buildings for the undead can hide where you would least expect it. Smoke filled the air from time to time from the buildings being at close intervals, forcing Drizzt to find new alleys to escape in.

The group continued to go through the street, taking note of the charred bodies and remnants of animals. Many of the human bodies, if they were not ashes, were devoured ravenously, most of the torso eaten away. Drizzt, having seen many battlefields that have been disfigured with corpses with all shapes and forms, had to cringe at the grotesque manner of the bodies. Mothers were holding their child, even if their child had its head bitten off or chewed through the bone, the mother in a worse state. Men held pitchforks, swords, and rusted lances; only to be eviscerated for their soft organs. Blood caked the cobble stone, blood trickled down some of the streets, forming its own stream of misery.

Anora held her face in a somewhat stoic manner, though inside, she just wanted to throw up. She was just 28; she rarely saw battle and kept the peace mainly from half-cracked men trying to start up some minor cult in their village. Anora was just admitted into the Sister Mages of Lordearon, right before the invasion of the undead. She had joined in with her twin sister, Asenale, who was somewhat superior in the arts of magic than Anora. Anora prayed that her sister was ok, for she was the missing Sister Mage. Anora knew that her sister would be alive, for if Anora could be alive, her sister could surely beat back a few ghouls or more. The mage sensed something from behind her and turned around quickly, to see one of her guards on the ground fighting back two zombies.

Anora heard the yells from behind her and gave a quick glance, seeing the two guards also fighting back the resurrected dead. The mage started her spell casting, her eyes turning a frozen blue; her staff's sapphire top fluctuated in a storm inside the sphere. Anora conjured up her water element; the element towered over eight feet with its legs ending in a torrent of water, almost gliding, and sent it towards the two guards who had the bigger handful of zombies to fight. A groan came from behind her and she turned, bringing her staff right along with her. The staff's head hit directly in the temple of the zombie, the magic built inside the sphere sending the zombie to hit a wall with a crash.

She rushed over to the guard, now facing five zombies, two of them crawling towards the tripped guard. The guard slashed the head off one and kept the raking claws of the other zombie away, sensing the other zombies approaching quickly. More zombies were being resurrected, though from what Anora did not know. Anora raised her staff and her hair flew back, a torrent of ice crashed down on the zombies. The zombies that were hit were crushed under the ice shards, many of their bones broke as the ice collided with them. Much of the ice was razor sharp as well, cutting through the zombie hoard with ease. Whatever zombies that survived were mangled, many unrecognizable, though their faces were the same expressionless mask that cried from hunger and desperation to leave this plane of existence and to die peacefully rather than to be resurrected to do someone else's bidding.

Drizzt rushed over to Anora and her guardsmen, the other two guardsmen were doing fine thanks to the help of Guen and the water element. Drizzt came from the side alley, slicing through one zombie and stabbing another. One zombie came at him; its arms searching for flesh, drool etched its mouth. Drizzt slashed the arm off with Icingdeath in the same fluid moment as Twinkle cut the bone of the knee. The zombie dropped to one knee to stare at the back of the drow, Icingdeath piercing through its heart. Other zombies were attracted to him like a beacon, though they were driven off. Fingers and arms were sliced off; bodies around the drow became numerous.

Drizzt did not stay there for long in fear of being overrun. The drow ran from zombie to zombie, administrating a cut to the throat or a stab to the heart. Three zombies surrounded him and they came for him at once, they mimicked each other's movements, their arms trying to rake in the drow for themselves. Drizzt dipped to the ground as they utterly circled him, he did a spin with his blades, the legs falling under a myriad of cuts and slashes. The zombies legs could not hold and they were cut from under them and they fell to the ground. Not before Drizzt started to rise as they fell, stabbing forward to get the stomach of one and cutting across the face of another. The last zombie tried to crawl away, only to have Twinkle be stabbed through its head.

Drizzt turned around from the cry of Anora as she raised her staff above her head and smacked a zombie in the head. The zombie was feasting on the neck of the guardsmen who had tripped and fallen, the guardsmen's neck was torn out and blood gushed from his wound like a fountain.

"Not you too…" she cried softly to herself as the other two guardsmen came towards her, the element tried but dissipated as its time in this world was over. Drizzt walked over to her, not knowing what to say. Drizzt had gone through much loss in his life, for him being 76 years old, considered a child in drow society. Drizzt had lost many of his closest friends, he saw his father die in front of his eyes as an animated corpse; Matron Mother Malice had resurrected him to kill Drizzt. His father's spirit forced its way through his body and threw himself into a lake of acid. Every time that Drizzt saw someone die, whether human, dwarf, or otherwise; Drizzt mourned for that person.

Drizzt was there, trying to comfort her, sorrow etched his face as well, for he believed that no one should have perished in a manner like this. Anora continued to weep quietly, a soft tear ran down her face. She knew the guardsmen, for he was her first escort on her first mission, now he was lost to her. The buildings continued to crackle under the intense flames, heat emanating from them in great volumes. The sound of fire muffled the guardsmen resurrection as he came back to life, in an undead manner. He reached for Anora's leg, his hand almost enclosed across her ankle. Drizzt grabbed Anora and ran backwards, yelling at the guards to do the same. Anora stood in silent grief, already the zombie starting to stand. Anora tightened her grip on her staff and took a step forward, not before Drizzt stopped her.

His lavender eyes were clouded with a certain softness and he softly said, "I will not have you go through your grief twice, one for the loss and another for you adding to that loss. I will do it, and I will make it as painless as I can."

Anora turned to Drizzt, her eyes still filled to the brim with tears. She nodded and Drizzt walked forward with his scimitars unsheathed, a grim tone painted on his face. The zombie came at him, its mouth agape. Drizzt skirted around the zombie, the zombie not registering the drow's movements.

"Please forgive me…" Drizzt softly said as he plunged Twinkle into the back of the zombie, going straight for the heart. The zombie arched his back and fell to the ground, its eyes fading to be blank once more.

Anora sucked up her tears, for she knew for her to escape this city of hell, she would have to be strong and accept loss that happened around her. She noticed as Drizzt walked back the pain that was on his face, though he did his best to try to conceal it. Anora knew that if she went ahead and tried to end the guardsmen life, she would have more than a difficult time doing it. Drizzt though, understood her pain and allowed him to take it for her. "Maybe I need to give this "drow" more credit for who he is," Anora thought.

Anora had a minor conflict with elves a while ago. She was given the task to break up a minor cult that had festered itself in a village. Apparently, the cult was a little bigger than the Sisters had originally estimated and Anora was overwhelmed. A group of High Elves were in the area and helped her out, though grateful for their help, these elves were callous and cut down every one of the cultists in a merciless manner. That struck a nerve in Anora, though her line of work dictated that she should not hesitate in the field against such enemies. She was supposed to be like the elves and how they took care of the cultists yet she could not find it in her to do it in the same manner. When Anora saw Drizzt end the life of her zombie guard, it struck home on how he administrated the final blow. Not the cold calloused manner that she saw the elves do it but with compassion, as though he did not want to do it but had to.

Drizzt was reminded of Catti-Brie in such a manner with Anora. Catti-Brie never enjoyed death; she never enjoyed to kill anything, especially humans, but would if she had to. Drizzt was slightly glad for Anora's sorrow, though that was pittance to the sadness he felt for her. Drizzt had met many humans that have been calloused to death, especially the death of someone they knew or a close one at that. When he saw Anora cry, he knew that Anora was still sensitive to her surroundings yet strong enough to go with actions like defending herself and the people around her.

"I am deeply sorry for the loss of your friend. There are no words, elven, human or otherwise, to describe the feeling that one endures when one loses someone close." Drizzt said with compassion in his voice, his lavender eyes soft with sympathy.

"Thank you," Anora said, her voice quivered slightly and her eyes were a little red.

"Where do we go from here then? Does Guen know the way?" Anora said, trying to avert attention away from the guardsmen and to get her mind to think of other things.

"Yes, she will guide us the way," Drizzt reassured.

"All right, well I think we should keep moving before more corpses are resurrected."

"Agreed"

They left the corpse-littered street, making their way through the maze of the city, trying to find the Lich to uncover the answers that they needed.

* * *

Innovindel landed in the forest near Quel'Thalas, a hard bump on her head. She rubbed her head and looked around, noting the many ancient trees that caught her attention, the sunny day catching the radiance of the trees in a completely new manner. Those trees were powerful, age strengthening them, their limbs full of vigor and their leaves bright and beautiful. Innovindel acknowledged that such forests were rare to have trees to mature to such a grand state, the elf thought of all the ancient forests in Faerun but could not remember any that had a certain feeling in the air, a sense of despair. 

She stood up, her bow was lying on the ground next to her and so was her quiver, full of arrows. Innovindel tried to remember what happened, but she was only able to catch fragments of it.

Innovindel was a close friend to Drizzt, after Drizzt thought he had lost all of his friends in a battle against the orcs. Though all of them were all right, Drizzt had thought them gone. He had gone through an emotional breakdown, driving his hatred and his time to hunt down all orcs that he could. Drizzt had met with Innovindel and Tarathiel, both friends to Drizzt. King Obould killed Tarathiel when Tarathiel was chasing down some orcs with his Pegasus. Innovindel would never forget the day when she watched her love die right in front of her eyes. Her memory brought her to a particular scene.

_Innovindel watched Drizzt as he had left the cave they were staying at; he had always left at times to avert his wrath and test his sanity, trying to change his mind from the constant memory flashes of the faces he saw of his friends. Innovindel followed, knowing at times that he got overwhelmed, though he could defend himself against how many orcs came at him. The elf was able to get close to Drizzt but everything around her faded, her balance started to falter. Everything was turning black, even if it was a starry night. Her last memory was waking up with a bump on her head._

She checked to make sure her dirk and sword were there in place, they were. Innovindel let out a sigh, trying to figure out where to go or who to see if there were any inhabitants in the area. She heard shouts and yells from beyond the forest wall; Innovindel ran all the way there, moving without a rustle to the leaves.

The elf stayed near the forest edge as she neared, keeping close to the shadows. She spotted the elves in an open field; buildings dotted the area and the scenery. The forest line did a half moon to the huge open field until it hit the sea that was on one side, a massive lake on the other side. The forest continued to go its shape until it met with a massive magical door, which was known as the Outer Gate, put there to keep out all intruders that tried to infiltrate Quel'Thalas. The same type of pattern was with the same magical door, known as the Inner Gate except the half-moon forest was smaller, until it hit the sea on both sides now. Inside the Inner gate lay Silvermoon, the city of Quel'Thalas. Many homes were placed in the space between the Inner and Outer Gate, the forest forming a protective wall around their homes. The sea encroached on Silvermoon's back and two sides; the only way to get to Silvermoon was to go through the Inner and Outer Gate.

Many elves scrambled about, as if preparing for war. The elves were donned with war gear, silver breastplates that glistened in the sun, yew bows that were strengthened with a touch of magic, the blades forged by the greatest of smiths. Innovindel continued to scan the area, if it wasn't for the chaos going through the base, she would have been spotted and caught.

"They have already breached the Outer Gate!" one elf yelled as he scrambled about.

"How where they able to get through?" another elf yelled.

"They must have gotten all the keys to open the doors, the poor elves that had to fight them on the outside, may their souls rest in peace."

"Grab all the able bodied elves you can and bring them to the front lines, we will not lose Quel'Thalas to these beasts. Quel'Thalas will never fall!" an elf commander ordered.

Many of the elves ran towards the Outer Gate, the forest making a bottle feature, thinning before it hit the door. An elf ran close to Innovindel and she ran out of the forest, also running towards the door.

"What is going on here?" asked Innovindel, trying to keep up with the elf.

"Don't you know, the undead are attacking us!" the elf yelled back, not even turning his head towards Innovindel.

Innovindel almost stopped at the sound of the undead. Massed undead, that sent a shudder down Innovindel's spine. She looked back at her quiver of arrows to make sure it was full, it was brim full. She knew that by the end of the day, it would be empty.

"Where are we exactly?" Innovindel asked.

The elf almost stopped but kept running and grunted, "We are in Quel'Thalas, the home of the High Elves. There, battle is waging, let us hurry!" The two elves rushed all the way.

Mountains were on both sides of the battlefield, trees were alongside the mountain. It was a massive battle; elves battled the undead in mass proportions. Small hills were on the elf's side, allowing the archers and sorcerers, along with the wizards to take hold of them and fire off them. Arrows were shot in the hundreds, ghouls fell by the hundreds yet they kept on coming. Necromancers continued to raise the dead, meat wagons picking up all the dead to place next to the necromancer. Magic was used as much as possible until they ran out of mana. Fire magic was used by the elves, along with ice and whatever other form of magic that they had. Large fire columns hit the ghouls, incinerating the group in a flash of flame. Elements were summoned, huge ice shards crashed down upon the undead; they collided to kill many ghouls. A group of wizards stood on a hill, channeling their energies and releasing huge fireballs to hit the undead, having devastating effects.

A wizard next to Innovindel kept hitting the ghouls with massive shards of ice, spreading the ghouls out. Innovindel looked on with amazement at the wizard, sweat beaded her face, her arms trembled but she continued with spell after spell. A ghoul managed to pass through the thin lines and rushed at the wizard, a ravenous look in its eyes. Innovindel raised her bow and shot, an arrow pierced the ghoul in the face and the ghoul spun backwards. Innovindel continued to unleash a barrage of arrows at the undead until she ran out; she frantically searched the ground until she found another quiver, which she used quite contently. No matter how many ghouls she shot down, two more where able to take its place. The elves ordered a retreat back to the Inner gate, many were jumping over the piles of undead, and the archers giving them cover.

Many elves were either dead or dying at that field, many were being devoured while they were still alive by the ghouls. More ghouls littered the field than the elves, five to one. Many of the elves were able to retreat back to the Inner gate. Innovindel ran with the wizard that stood next to her. A scream forced Innovindel to turn around and an elf had fallen. The elf frantically fought back the ghouls that quickly encroached him but he would not last. Innovindel scoured her quiver and found an arrow left, she cocked the arrow and let fly. The arrow hit the ghoul; Innovindel was running towards to the elf with her blades drawn. The elf tried to stand but had to cut back another ghoul. Innovindel was there in a moment, slashing the neck of the ghoul she hit with the arrow.

A ghoul came at her and she dodged its claws, weaving to get inside the long arms of the ghoul, she thrust her blade deep into the ghoul's chest. The ghoul fell with two more following. Innovindel turned around and saw the elf had finally got up, a bow and arrow at the ready. An arrow whizzed by Innovindel's face to hit one ghoul in the face and the other ghoul charged Innovindel. The ghoul tried to cut at Innovindel's knee but the elf sidestepped the ghoul, slashing her sword at his face while bringing her dirk to stab at the side of his neck. The other elf fired off two more arrows and gave a nod to Innovindel to retreat and he started to retreat, waiting for her. She complied and they both ran back to the other elves, waiting for the undead to attack at their dwindling numbers.

* * *

Arthas scanned over the battlefield, pleased with the results. To find the keys to open the magical door was easy, having his meat wagons pile through the forest lines and sending massive parties to retrieve them. Once that was done, the undead king sent his massive army to attack the elves with devastating effects. A necromancer was resurrecting the dead around, creating emotionless zombies, and sent them towards the gate. 

Abominations rambled past him, their massive bulk and their cleavers were full of elven blood. One had found an elf barely alive and it devoured the body of the elf, the elf's screams echoed through out the battlefield. Gargoyles were flying still, waiting for the order to charge through the forest, now that the magic around the forest line was gone since the door was opened. The Lich came up by him then, surveying the scene.

"Well done my king." exclaimed the Lich.

"This battle is far from over, though it will end quickly. The elves already falter against the bulk of my undead force." Arthas said.

"Either way, once the elves are gone, you will be able to scrounge up the remaining human forces and eradicate them. Then, you will be able to concentrate on bigger matters… like Tichondrius."

Arthas turned to the Lich and considered the words. Tichondrius did not like Arthas; he loathed Arthas for that matter. Tichondrius believed that the undead belonged to the Burning Legion and not to some make-believe king that stole some of his undead force. What Tichondrius feared was Frostmourne, which was imbued with the power and spirit of the Lich King, the true ruler of the undead.

A necromancer came to Arthas then, his staff prodding against the ground and the bodies. "What would you have us do, my lord?" the necromancer asked.

"Send our forces into the heart of Quel'Thalas and make the elves fear the undead." replied Arthas, his voice full of anger and hatred.

The necromancer rounded up what forces he could and had them charge through the gates; the gargoyles flew over, taking note of what they stood up against. The undead ran all the way, knowing they would have a few new corpses to devour.

* * *

Innovindel and the elf ran back to the other elves, everyone seemed exhausted and low on arrows. Workers brought arrows from Silvermoon, many elves taking them with a stoic expression. The wizards and sorcerers took mana potions, revitalizing their supply to unleash their new-founded fury. The wizard that stood next to Innovindel swallowed her potion, new strength coursed through her veins. A sorcerer came to her then, showing a compassionate tone. 

"I am deeply sorry for your friend," expressed the sorcerer.

The wizard reflected those words. Her dearest friend was caught under the flood of the undead, her mana supply diminished and she was only fighting with a staff. The wizard held back her tears, for there was no time for them. She stayed silent and the sorcerer asked, "I never did catch your name, mine is Eilmorel."

The wizard started to speak when shouts interrupted her, telling people to prepare for the next charge. The elven commander got everyone in lines, spearmen were placed in front while archers were placed behind and magic users almost flanked the spearmen, staying slightly behind. With an apologetic nod, she left to take her place in line. Innovindel and the other elf ran to join their spot in line, the other elves handing them full quivers of arrows. Arrows were placed in abundance behind them, making sure they would never run out.

The elf that was saved by Innovindel started, "I wanted to thank you for saving me…"

"There is no need to thank me." Innovindel responded.

"My name is Zankas, and yours?" Zankas asked.

"Mine is Innovindel, and may our arrows pierce the heart of these ghouls that are ravaging your home." Innovindel said with a sense of confidence in her voice.

Zankas stared back at Innovindel, a flash of Tarathiel's face darted across Zankas and she quickly had to turn away, a tear almost in her eye.

"Gargoyles!" an elf yelled, pointing to the sky.

The archers turned their heads towards the skies, which seemed blotted by the gargoyles. They came and let out deafening screeches, flapping their wings. They bombarded the elven lines, sending elves scurrying. The archers shot the gargoyles out of the sky, their bows making an orchestration of the continual sound they made when they released their arrow. The ghouls, abominations, and zombies along with whatever other horror came around the forest corner after the archers started shooting down the gargoyles.

The elves reformed their lines, their spear points sparkled with the dark undead blood. The ghouls charged, many impaled by the spears. Wizards shot out their magic, taking down many of the undead. An abomination came lumbering at the spear line, followed by a score of ghouls. They were immolated in a column of fire; their screams were added with all the other screams of the battlefield. The archers concentrated their efforts at the gargoyles, some taking shots at the land undead. No necromancers were with this group; this group was more of a first strike party, which still gave the group of elves trouble. The undead were beat back; many of the elves went through the battlefield, callously ending the lives of any undead that they crossed. The elves knew they had won this battle, but they knew that the undead would return.


End file.
